Hael'Olin Freth
Posted: Sun Jun 10, 2012 12:19 am
First Name: Hael'Olin
Last Name: Freth
Appearance: Heavy build, wide shoulders, and tall relative to most Elves.
Race: Drow
Age: 130
Height 5'10
Weight: 91 Kilos
Eyes: White
Hair: Green
Facial Hair Style: None
Personality Profile: Blood thirsty, impulsive, loyal, gifted yet overconfident.
General Health: Above average.
Deity: Lolth
Initial Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Profession: Hunter0
Base Class & Proposed Development: Fighter/Favored soul
Habits/Hobbies: Hunt powerful game, jalils, training to gain in strength, and power.
Languages: Elven, Drow, Undercommon, and common.
Weapon of Choice: Undecided, at the moment he uses an axe. Thinking of using a flail.
Background: Growing up in S'shamath this Drow jaluk has a particularly unhealthy rebellious streak. For instance, as a brash Eighty year old, the jaluk confronted and challenged a jalil openly in martial training academy. Not knowing she hails from Menzoberranzan, Hael'Olin thinks little of the incident, and is caught fully unawares by the enraged jalil and her companions. They ambush him as he leaves the academy late in the Cycle, beating him with sticks and stones. Kicking at his body, the prideful jalil sneers and laughs at the pathetic sod with her companions, leaving Hael'Olin's broken body for dead. However, thanks to his strong vitality, the jaluk escapes the ordeal with his life if not his dignity; however it won't be until fifty years later that he learns much needed humility...
"Can't you move any faster!?" barks Hael O'lin to Borg his powerfully loyal and subservient Tanarukk
henchman, "The escaped slaves won't murder themselves!"
Though the Tanarukk says little and lacks confidence, anyone who pays attention to the demonic Orc would recognize an uncanny wit beneath his unassuming exterior. "Y-yes, Hael'Olin! At once!"
He bustles off and makes sure to hurry after the Drow, not wanting to be left behind or berated. The pair walk up the spire, the winds bellowing heavily, causing them to stop to shield themselves as they make the trek. Cursing, Hael'Olin looks to the top of the Spire, seeing one of the Phae'faer brothers and the quiet Morliintastin Arkenatelyl waiting at the entrance to Varallas.
"Hah! You're quite slow, maybe Belelaclya broke your legs!" The older of the Phae'faer brothers laughs mockingly as Hael'Olin grumbles next to the Borg the Tanarukk, cursing him for his slowness. Though he mocks him, Phae'faer is fond of the Drow finding him interesting and less drab than the typical Drow.
Suddenly, Morliintastin Arkenately quietly whispers, bringing to a halt all the noise and clatter at the utterance of her first syllable, "Well, needless to say, perhaps you've learned a good lesson?" She smiles as she speaks at the tall Drow.
"I... Perhaps so, jalil..." The normally rambunctious Drow is quieted at her gaze, perhaps the sign of a change in the jaluk. He grimaces then, suddenly, remembering the cruel Belelaclya.
He remembers the quiet drone of a voice dripping with death:
"Plead for help and I will kill you!"
He stands atop the spire, looking at Morliintastin's kind eyes, yet Hael'Olin shivvers at the wizard's words. She is right, Belelaclya showed him the steep, unreasonable price, for his over confidence and bravado. Hael'Olin shakes his head trying to strip the thoughts from his mind, he tries not to think back to his scrambled and clumsy attempt to flee through the Catacombs of S'shamath. However, despite his best attempts to forget, he clearly recalls the sound of his boots hitting the flooded tunnels as he shoddily flees from his pursuer, the hellbent Belelacyla striving to end his life in order to resurrect him as an undead creature.
Coming back to the present Hael'Olin, with a blush, averts his eyes from the quiet wizard to look at his Tanarukk slave, Borg. "Indeed, if it were not for him, I would be a corpse damned for eternity" he shudders at the thought, "Some humility should do well with me...."
Goals: To gain power, spiritual strength, and gain independence through whatever means necessary. He also enjoys to hunt big game.
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts: Tries to act like a ladies man and likes to woo women though is seldom successful. After recent events, is much more calm in regards to jalil. Is bloodthirsty and loves a good battle or challenge. Wants to free himself from the constraints of Drow culture bringing mayhem to the established order.
Last Name: Freth
Appearance: Heavy build, wide shoulders, and tall relative to most Elves.
Race: Drow
Age: 130
Height 5'10
Weight: 91 Kilos
Eyes: White
Hair: Green
Facial Hair Style: None
Personality Profile: Blood thirsty, impulsive, loyal, gifted yet overconfident.
General Health: Above average.
Deity: Lolth
Initial Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Profession: Hunter0
Base Class & Proposed Development: Fighter/Favored soul
Habits/Hobbies: Hunt powerful game, jalils, training to gain in strength, and power.
Languages: Elven, Drow, Undercommon, and common.
Weapon of Choice: Undecided, at the moment he uses an axe. Thinking of using a flail.
Background: Growing up in S'shamath this Drow jaluk has a particularly unhealthy rebellious streak. For instance, as a brash Eighty year old, the jaluk confronted and challenged a jalil openly in martial training academy. Not knowing she hails from Menzoberranzan, Hael'Olin thinks little of the incident, and is caught fully unawares by the enraged jalil and her companions. They ambush him as he leaves the academy late in the Cycle, beating him with sticks and stones. Kicking at his body, the prideful jalil sneers and laughs at the pathetic sod with her companions, leaving Hael'Olin's broken body for dead. However, thanks to his strong vitality, the jaluk escapes the ordeal with his life if not his dignity; however it won't be until fifty years later that he learns much needed humility...
"Can't you move any faster!?" barks Hael O'lin to Borg his powerfully loyal and subservient Tanarukk
henchman, "The escaped slaves won't murder themselves!"
Though the Tanarukk says little and lacks confidence, anyone who pays attention to the demonic Orc would recognize an uncanny wit beneath his unassuming exterior. "Y-yes, Hael'Olin! At once!"
He bustles off and makes sure to hurry after the Drow, not wanting to be left behind or berated. The pair walk up the spire, the winds bellowing heavily, causing them to stop to shield themselves as they make the trek. Cursing, Hael'Olin looks to the top of the Spire, seeing one of the Phae'faer brothers and the quiet Morliintastin Arkenatelyl waiting at the entrance to Varallas.
"Hah! You're quite slow, maybe Belelaclya broke your legs!" The older of the Phae'faer brothers laughs mockingly as Hael'Olin grumbles next to the Borg the Tanarukk, cursing him for his slowness. Though he mocks him, Phae'faer is fond of the Drow finding him interesting and less drab than the typical Drow.
Suddenly, Morliintastin Arkenately quietly whispers, bringing to a halt all the noise and clatter at the utterance of her first syllable, "Well, needless to say, perhaps you've learned a good lesson?" She smiles as she speaks at the tall Drow.
"I... Perhaps so, jalil..." The normally rambunctious Drow is quieted at her gaze, perhaps the sign of a change in the jaluk. He grimaces then, suddenly, remembering the cruel Belelaclya.
He remembers the quiet drone of a voice dripping with death:
"Plead for help and I will kill you!"
He stands atop the spire, looking at Morliintastin's kind eyes, yet Hael'Olin shivvers at the wizard's words. She is right, Belelaclya showed him the steep, unreasonable price, for his over confidence and bravado. Hael'Olin shakes his head trying to strip the thoughts from his mind, he tries not to think back to his scrambled and clumsy attempt to flee through the Catacombs of S'shamath. However, despite his best attempts to forget, he clearly recalls the sound of his boots hitting the flooded tunnels as he shoddily flees from his pursuer, the hellbent Belelacyla striving to end his life in order to resurrect him as an undead creature.
Coming back to the present Hael'Olin, with a blush, averts his eyes from the quiet wizard to look at his Tanarukk slave, Borg. "Indeed, if it were not for him, I would be a corpse damned for eternity" he shudders at the thought, "Some humility should do well with me...."
Goals: To gain power, spiritual strength, and gain independence through whatever means necessary. He also enjoys to hunt big game.
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts: Tries to act like a ladies man and likes to woo women though is seldom successful. After recent events, is much more calm in regards to jalil. Is bloodthirsty and loves a good battle or challenge. Wants to free himself from the constraints of Drow culture bringing mayhem to the established order.